


Magic and steel

by cherrycitrus_blossom, UpInOrbit



Category: Dreamcatcher (Korea Band)
Genre: Dejavu inspired, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Legends, Light Angst, Magic, Mentions of Blood, Royalty, Witch Hunters, Witches, fairytale style, non-linear narration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23428429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrycitrus_blossom/pseuds/cherrycitrus_blossom, https://archiveofourown.org/users/UpInOrbit/pseuds/UpInOrbit
Summary: Witches and humans are not meant to be friends. Legend has it there will be a battle, one in which the witch queen and the human queen will fight, and only one will remain. The victory of one will mean the annihilation of the other’s people so, no, witches and humans are not meant to be friends.That, however, has never stopped Minji and Yoohyeon.
Relationships: Kim Minji | JiU/Kim Yoohyeon
Comments: 9
Kudos: 102
Collections: 🎈9900's April Fools🎈





	Magic and steel

**Author's Note:**

> Dreamcatcher may not be my ult girl group, but that doesn't stop me from jamming to every one of their title songs from Minx to Dreamcatcher. What better way to debut my first girl group fic by writing for Dreamcatcher :D

This is a story everyone knows. It’s told in hushed whispers and loud cries, from mother to daughter, from father to son. It’s a story about queens and wars, of a battle that will end in blood, morphing the future into something foreign and unknown.

This, is a story everyone knows.

That one day, the witch queen will come. Her hair will be made of molten gold, and she will wear living flowers in her hair and a dress turned red by the innocent blood in which she’ll drench it.

She will lead an army of witches who speak in tales and burn everything to the ground, laughing and dancing as they do. She will take no prisoners, have no mercy. Those who stand in her way will perish, and she’ll smile as she takes them down, drinking their blood like it’s the sweetest nectar, a gift from the Goddess to whom she’ll pray.

And then will come the human queen, her hair as dark as the night, her eyes as bright as the stars, and they’ll fight. They will fight for two days and two nights, and in the process, thousands will die.

And the human queen will be brought down by the witch queen, because she’s as much of a trickster as she’s ruthless, and she’ll fell the human queen and cut her to pieces, and she’ll sprinkle her blood over the faces of those who once were her loyal subjects, who fought and died for her.

The human kind will be enslaved, abused by the witches who will revel in their misery and break them like they’re nothing but twigs.

The witch queen will rule, and that will be the end of humans.

***

In the dead of the night, a young girl no older than five is woken up from her happy dream.

She is still half asleep as familiar hands dress her up, and she barely understands when she’s brought close to her parents chests, their hugs so tight she can barely breathe, but she wraps her small arms around their necks and hugs them back just as fiercely.

She is covered in kisses, and droplets of water fall down on her face, but she’s too sleepy to make any sense of it.

A horse is saddled, her clothes tucked away in the saddlebags, along with other objects, long and bulky, that she doesn’t recognize.

“Grow big and strong, Yoohyeon,” her mother whispers, mouth pressed to the crown of her head. “We will wait for you.”

With that, the horse takes off, and Yoohyeon clings to the person in front of her, tears slowly falling down her face.

She sleeps and cries for the entirety of the journey, for the whole three days and three nights that it takes them to reach a town on the far end of the kingdom. She doesn’t understand what’s going on, but she knows she must not complain.

Her skin tingles the moment she sets foot on the town. From one of the windows, someone is watching.

***

“We should be friends,” Yoohyeon says, absentmindedly braiding her hair.

The girl sitting next to her frowns, confused.

“Are we allowed?” She asks, throwing a quick glance at the house behind Yoohyeon, as if she’s waiting for the moment in which she’ll be shooed away. It has happened before. It wasn’t pleasant.

Yoohyeon shrugs.

“I don’t care. I want to be your friend,” she says with a bright smile, one that is slowly but surely reciprocated. 

***

This is a story everyone knows. It’s told in hushed whispers and loud cries, from mother to daughter, from father to son. It’s a story about queens and wars, of a battle that will end in blood, morphing the future into something foreign and unknown.

This, is a story everyone knows.

That one day, the human queen will come. Her hair will be as dark as ink, dripping with darkness, and she will wear a crown of diamonds and iron, and leathers made from the skin of the witches she’ll kill on her way.

She will lead an army of humans who’ll wield iron, be covered by it, and will force the weak to hold it, laughing as they watch the way it will make witches shrivel and die, screaming in pain. She will take no prisoners, have no mercy. Those who stand in her way will perish, and she’ll smile as she takes them down, spilling blood inside the sacred temples and sanctuaries, those that are the source of their magic, an affront to the Goddess that she’ll never forget.

And then will come the witch queen, her hair as bright as burnished gold, her eyes lit by the power and pain within her, and they’ll fight. They will fight for two days and two nights, and in the process, thousands will die.

And the witch queen will be brought down by the human queen, because she’s as much of a trickster as she’s ruthless, and she’ll fell the witch queen and cut her to pieces, and she’ll carve her heart out and burn it as she burns her spell-books, and blow their ashes over the faces of those who once were her loyal subjects, who fought and died for her.

The witch kind will be enslaved, be forced to wear shackles of iron that will burn their wrists and make the magic in their veins disappear, and humans will revel in their misery and crush them like they’re nothing but insects.

The human queen will rule, and that will be the end of witches.

***

In the dead of the night, a young girl no older than six is woken up from her happy dream.

She is still half asleep as the familiar hands of her sisters’ dress her up, and she barely understands when she’s brought close to her parents chests, their hugs so tight she can barely breathe, but she wraps her small arms around their necks and hugs them back just as tight.

She is covered in kisses, and droplets of water fall down on her face, but she’s too sleepy to make any sense of it.

A horse is saddled, her clothes tucked away in the saddlebags, along with big, dusty books that are meant for others with better control of their own abilities.

“Fly high and free, Minji,” her mother whispers, mouth pressed to the crown of her head. “We will wait for you.”

With that, the horse takes off, and Minji clings to her sister, sat in front of her, eyes open wide, too tired for tears.

She stays awake the whole journey, trying to commit to memory all that she sees, like it’s the last time she’ll do so. Five days and four nights is what it takes them to reach a town on the far end of the kingdom. Curious eyes stay on them, on the newcomers covered in dust, but she brushes them away.

Time flies by, days melting into weeks, and she waits. One day, a girl comes by.

***

Yoohyeon is tired. 

She’s tired of going through the same routines again and again, of having endless classes about topics she doesn’t understand, but overall, she’s tired of that story. It fills her with dread and she’s tired, so sick of it, and she wants one day, just one day of reprieve, one day in which she doesn’t have to hear it, as it’s drilled in her brain, she can recite it even in her sleep, but her teacher is relentless, and she won’t let her go.

“I don’t understand,” Yoohyeon whispers against Minji’s chest, as the older girl hugs her softly, caressing her hair as Yoohyeon cries. “I don’t understand why it’s so important, why I’ve had to listen to it everyday for over two years,” she knows she mustn’t complain, but she’s tired, so tired, and today she feels like she must just come apart at her seams.

She knows better than to let Minji in, than to let anyone in, but the words slipped out before she could stop them, painting a vague picture of what has brought her to tears.

“Stories have power,” Minji says when Yoohyeon the tears cease to flow, when her shaking finally stops. Yoohyeon sits up and Minji carefully wipes away the tears still remain on her face, the ones that cling to her eyelashes. “Stories have power,” she repeats when she sees she has Yoohyeon’s attention, “and the bigger they get, the more people that believes them. Some get so big it’s as if they’re written in stone, as if they’re talking about the past instead of being just a story.”

“Why?” Yoohyeon whispers, pain bleeding into her voice as she grabs fistfuls of grass. 

Minji shrugs, a sad look in her eyes.

“We all need something to believe in. This is what they’ve chosen to believe in, I guess.”

“Then maybe they should find another story,” Yoohyeon replies, tired of it all.

***

They’re lying on the grass, their hair spread around them like a halo.

The town is asleep and it’s just the both of them, speaking in hushed whispers to not be discovered. Even though it’s just the beginning of autumn, it should be too cold for them to be there, but Minji had done something, and the air around them was warm. 

Minji’s eyes had twinkled like the stars above them when she saw Yoohyeon’s delighted smile.

It’s almost hard to focus, as Minji points at the stars and tells Yoohyeon about their stories, the legend that lies behind each one of the constellations. 

It’s almost hard to focus, Yoohyeon brimming with a sense of peacefulness and something akin to happiness, but she tries. And when Minji turns her head to the side, waiting for Yoohyeon to continue, she tells Minji of the names of the constellations, of what each of them mean, of which to follow when you’re lost, and the one that points true North.

They’re lying on the grass, hair spread around them like a halo, pointing with one hand to the stars, the fingers of the others intertwined, and Yoohyeon thinks she might have found her paradise.

***

The battle field was chosen a long time ago, long before Yoohyeon was even born. It is a long esplanade where nothing grows, big enough to host both armies. Yoohyeon never understood why those armies were needed, when it was her life or death what would decide the fate of her people.

 _Stories have power_ , Minji’s voice whispers in her mind and Yoohyeon nods grimly, like her friend is standing next to her and she can see her.

She isn’t, though, and its better this way, Yoohyeon guesses. Yoohyeon’s father, however, _is_ by her side, sat atop his horse, a long sword hanging by his side. He’s gotten old in the time Yoohyeon hasn’t seen him, but it’s more than just time and age. It’s a tiredness that runs bone deep, one that has dragged him down, reduced him to little more than skin and bones. She can barely see her father in this man that sits by her side, and it pains her, it pains her that stories have power, and that this one has consumed her father.

Maybe he had needed a Minji by his side, she muses. Maybe he shouldn’t have allowed himself to be dragged under a story older than time, but she can’t hold it against him.

“It’s time,” his father says, and even though it’s nothing more than a whisper, it sounds as clear as bells ringing, his whisper making its way to the last one of their soldiers, so far away Yoohyeon can’t even see him. It ripples and echoes, a cascade growing in power, and Yoohyeon can almost see it.

She sighs.

The crown she wears is heavy and her fingers itch to throw it away, to rip it from her head and stomp on it like she’s a child, like that will be enough to bring down a tale that’s older than time, bigger than them, a shadow hovering over her head, but she doesn’t.

She managed to get away from wearing whatever clothes her parents had chosen for her, had refused to even look at them. The crown, whoever, had to stay.

The sword hanging from her hip, a comforting and familiar weight on her hand, has turned into a heavy anchor, almost too heavy to move, but she pushes through.

She’s just reached the middle of the battle field when she sees it, the other army opening up, to reveal a lonely figure in its midst. Like Yoohyeon, she approaches the place in which they’re meant to fight.

The witch army ripples with power, while the human one glitters under the Sun.

Yoohyeon’s throat feels parched, heart beating rapidly in her chest, threatening to break free from her chest when the witch queen stops in front of her, and she looks into Minji’s familiar eyes.

***

Minji knows something is wrong the moment she sees Yoohyeon’s flushed face. 

She can see it in her shoulders, in the downward curve of her lips, in the way she doesn’t seem to be able to hold Minji’s eyes. Yoohyeon stays beside her as Minji slowly nurtures a flower back to life with nothing other than hushed words.

Yoohyeon shouldn’t know that, shouldn’t be privy to her secrets, but they crossed that line a long time ago, and neither of them have regretted it. 

It’s obvious in the knife that Minji keeps hidden under her clothes, a gift from Yoohyeon who has taught her how to use it, the handle covered in leather so that it wouldn’t hurt Minji to touch. It’s obvious too in the small sachet that Yoohyeon wears around her neck, herbs hidden inside and small spells painstakingly sewn to it to protect her from curses.

Witches do magic, humans do steel.

But sometimes, there’s a human who refuses to settle down. And sometimes, there’s a witch who’s avid for more, who wants to learn everything there is and beyond.

“I’m leaving,” Yoohyeon whispers and, who knew that words could hurt, feel like a punch against her ribs?

Minji’s spell falters, her concentration gone, and she turns around to look at Yoohyeon. It’s been almost fifteen years since they first met, and so much has happened. Minji had always known this moment would come, but she thought it was her who would be leaving, had never guessed Yoohyeon would beat her to it.

“When?” She somehow manages to ask, past the lump in her throat.

“Tomorrow,” Yoohyeon replies, her eyes still cast down. Her voice is shaky and Minji has an inkling Yoohyeon is close to tears. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I will,” Yoohyeon continues. “Promise me you’ll still be here when I come back?” She asks as she raises her head, and, just like Minji suspected, there are tears shining in her eyes.

Somehow, she manages to nod. Somehow, she manages to smile.

“Of course I promise,” she replies, reaching forward to hold Yoohyeon’s hand.

The lie makes it past her lips with surprising ease, but Minji doesn’t have the heart to tell Yoohyeon she’s about to leave too. And if she ever comes back, she doubts Yoohyeon will still live.

***

“Minji,” Yoohyeon breathes out.

“Yoohyeon,” Minji replies.

Yoohyeon takes a step back. This isn’t how it was supposed to be.

There are armies waiting behind of both of them, waiting for the moment one of them makes a move. Yoohyeon is wearing a crown made of diamonds and iron, and Minji’s hair shines like molten gold, like burnished gold, her fingertips crackle with magic and her eyes shine with the power that flows through her veins and the pain that lives in her heart, twin to the one in Yoohyeon’s.

This is how it was supposed to be.

“I guess this is it,” Minji says. “I guess we fight now.”

This is how it was supposed to be.

Yoohyeon takes another step back, shakes her head, and her eyes get caught on Minji’s hip, on the familiar lump of a dagger hidden beneath the fabric.

“No,” she replies. 

This is not how it was supposed to be.

Yoohyeon is not wearing the leathers her parents had wanted her to have, and Minji’s dress is one of a faded pink, as familiar to Yoohyeon as her own clothes, one that she has personally helped sew. The dagger hanging from Minji’s hip was a gift from Yoohyeon, and the tiny sachet that’s pressed against Yoohyeon’s chest was a gift from Minji.

“Stories have power,” Yoohyeon repeats Minji’s words, and by the way Minji’s eyes light up, she can see Minji remembers what she’s talking about. “Let’s make our own story.”

***

This is a story everyone knows. It’s told in hushed whispers and loud cries, from mother to daughter, from father to son. It’s a story about queens and wars, of a battle that was to end in blood, morphing the future into something foreign and unknown.

This, is a story everyone knows.

That one day, the witch queen would come, her hair of gold, living flowers on her head and wearing an old dress of faded pink. Dangling from her hip, a gift from a friend in the form of a dagger. Behind her, an army of witches who spoke in tales, magic on their fingertips. 

The human queen, too, would come, her hair as dark as a starless night, a crown of diamonds and iron on her head, a dress of black to mourn for those who’d fall. Hanging from her neck, a small sachet woven with incantations, the best protection a friend could offer her. Behind her, an army of humans covered in iron, shining like jewels under the morning Sun.

And they both bore weapons, a long sword made of steel, another of pure magic. And when they were meant to cross them, they let them tumble to the ground, refusing to fight the other.

They left the battlefield, side by side, weapons and crowns forgotten behind them, and disappeared without a trace.

Some say they fled to another continent. Others, that they created their own queendom. 

None saw them again.

***

They’re lying on the grass, their hair spread around them like a halo.

It’s been a long time since they last did so, and much has changed, _they_ have changed, but not this. Minji had still heated up the air around them and her eyes had twinkled like the stars above them when she saw Yoohyeon’s delighted smile.

It’s still hard to focus, even if they’re not speaking, but it’s still hard to focus on anything that isn’t Minji’s steady heartbeat under Yoohyeon’s cheek or the way her fingers feel as she runs them down Yoohyeon’s side. 

Yoohyeon’s arms tighten around Minji, and Minji moves around to look at her, her eyes having turned into a bottomless pit of emotion, so beautiful it takes Yoohyeon’s breath away.

They’re lying on the grass, hair spread around them like a halo, Yoohyeon looking up to stare at Minji’s content expression, and Yoohyeon knows she has found her paradise.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it. Kudos and comments warm my heart <3


End file.
